


"I'm willing to wait for it."

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Greg is gobsmacked, M/M, Mycroft is gorgeous, Mystrade Monday, Nudity, heat wave, mystrade, pre-Mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: It's a hot day and Mycroft has his ways of coping with the heat. Greg unexpectedly drops by and isn't prepared for what he sees. On the other hand, he really doesn't mind that much either.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862299
Comments: 36
Kudos: 203





	"I'm willing to wait for it."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Copgirl1964](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copgirl1964/gifts), [trillian_jdc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillian_jdc/gifts).



> Copgirl gave me a plot bunny to love. I hope she likes how it has grown. :)
> 
> Trillian_jdc knows why. ;)

The heat was simply miserable. London had been sweltering all weekend. Sherlock flatly refused to leave his spot on the sofa under the fan, despite his promise to get the information Greg needed from Mycroft.

“You get it, Lestrade. He said it’d be ready this afternoon.” Sherlock gestured lazily at the table where a key and a card with a series of numbers lay.

Greg sighed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the perspiration make it spike wildly. With a grunt he collected the key and card and let himself out of the Baker Street flat. The sun beat down on the sidewalk and Greg could feel the sweat forming at the base of his back. Shucking his suit jacket, Greg promised himself a cold drink once he was done with this errand.

* * *

Mycroft stood in front of his refrigerator and frowned at the contents. The cool air blasting from the fridge felt marvelous. He contemplated the possibility of moving his computer to the kitchen and working in front of the open door of the refrigerator. Not an environmentally sound idea, but tempting.

Mycroft heard the front door open and close. He heaved a sigh. Dealing with Sherlock was not something he was prepared to do right now.

“Sherlock, I told you I’d call when it was ready.” he called out before leaning into the refrigerator. He spied a San Pellegrino Aranciata. Perhaps he’d add some gin to help him cope with his brother.

Greg followed the sound of Mycroft’s voice to the kitchen. “Sorry,” he started as he walked into the room. “It’s not Sher—Sweet mother of God, have mercy!”

Greg was greeted by one of the finest arses he’d ever seen. He watched as Mycroft back out of the refrigerator holding a can.

Mycroft’s eyes widened and he yelped with an undignified squawk, as he caught sight of Greg standing in the doorway of his kitchen. He darted behind the refrigerator door. “Lestrade! What are you doing here?”

“I… ah…” Greg had to think, why was he here again? The case, right. “Sherlock said you’d have some information that could help with the Harvey case.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Honestly. I told him, I’d call.”

“I’m willing to wait for it,” Greg offered.

“I see.” Mycroft pushed the door of the refrigerator shut. Greg mustered every ounce of control not to gawp at the vision of Mycroft Holmes completely nude. He was slender and nicely toned. His pale skin was dotted with freckles. And he was a ginger, most definitely a ginger.

“Follow me,” Mycroft commanded. He moved to the doorway and stopped in front of a gobsmacked Greg. “You’ll need to step aside.”

“Oh, right,” Greg mumbled forcing himself to look Mycroft straight in the eyes, then shifted aside to let Mycroft through.

Mycroft smirked as he went past. He handed Greg the can of soda. “Have a drink, Lestrade. You look hot and bothered.”

Greg was positive the gulp he swallowed was audible to all. He trailed after Mycroft down the hall.

“You may look, but don’t touch,” Mycroft instructed as they entered his home office.

“No, I’d never touch without permission,” Greg replied.

Mycroft turned his gaze on Greg speculatively, lifting his eyebrows.

Greg flushed. “I meant… ah…” He could feel more sweat start to prickle along his hairline. “It’s awfully warm, isn’t it?” He cracked open the soda he was holding and took a long drink.

“Very observant of you. It’s precisely because it is warm, I’ve not donned my usual dress.” A short cotton robe with a rich print of blues, greens and gold, that only could’ve come from Liberty of London, was draped over his office chair. Mycroft slipped it on and sat down at his desk. “Usually in this heat I prefer no clothing, but in deference to your sensibilities, I’ve modified my appearance.”

“Oh, no need to… ah… I mean…” There seemed to be no good response.

Mycroft booted up his computer. “Tell me the particulars.”

Greg reviewed the case as Mycroft typed and scrolled. Three hit and runs and the suspicion was on focused on the family member of a prominent businessman. Greg just needed evidence regarding the whereabouts of this person on the dates in question.

“Are these the locations of the incidents?”

Greg moved to look over Mycroft’s shoulder. “You hacked into my files. How did you do that?” He sat the half drunk soda on the desk.

Mycroft gave Greg a withering glare. “It’s not hacking if I have clearance.” He picked up soda and drank deeply.

Greg watched Mycroft drink. His graceful neck extended. “Right, sorry.” Greg could see the ginger chest hair filling the V of the robe. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

The soda was now gone. “Mmm… yes.”

“W-what?”

Mycroft’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “There are several CCTV cameras located near the locations. You should be able to check the footage on those dates and confirm the presence of the car in question in the general vicinity at the appropriate times. I’ll print you a list.”

“We checked the camera footage,” Greg remarked. Mycroft shifted and the robe slid aside to reveal a freckled, muscular thigh. Would Mycroft object to the freckles being kissed?

“No, I wouldn’t think so.”

“S-sorry?” Greg stammered.

“Some of these cameras are only known to my department. I can give you access to their footage for the dates you need.”

An hour later, with a list of CCTV camera footage to review and the appropriate access codes, Greg was shown the door.

“Thanks, Mycroft. This is a huge help. Sorry to have barged in on you.”

“It’s of no consequence. Happy to help.”

“Mycroft, I was…” Greg shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What is it?”

“If I asked, would you let me touch?” Greg’s eyes traveled down and up.

Mycroft smiled. “Yes, I would.”


End file.
